


Raising Theon

by MzyraJane



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1411348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MzyraJane/pseuds/MzyraJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My brain keeps coming up with little snippets of young Theon adapting to Winterfell, so this will probably be an ongoing compilation as they occur to me. Likely to be mostly pretty gen and universal. And adorable.</p>
<p>Part 1: Velvet<br/>The clothes Theon brought from Pyke aren't really suited to the North, but he's reluctant to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raising Theon

When Catelyn had first set eyes on Theon Greyjoy she was already filled with a variety of emotions, heightened all the more by the late stage of her third pregnancy. Of course she was filled with relief to have Ned home safe and well, tired from Robb and Sansa for all that she had assistance with them, and she'd been feeling a degree of trepidation about the ward Ned was bringing, whom she'd been informed about by raven rather than surprise her as Ned had done with Jon after the last war, which she had not taken well.

Catelyn could not say that she had ever truly known any ironborn men or women, during or after her time at Riverrun. She had learnt certain houses and sigils, but most of what she knew was their history of reaving and raping, how they had exercised terrible control over the Riverlands until the Targaryens came with their dragons. She had never really considered their children at all before the raven came, but knew at once that she would not choose to raise her own children with them.

Looking at Theon Greyjoy then... He looked a rough, hard and cold boy; dark bags under his eyes that were wary and not quite scowling, his hair and clothes rather dishevelled, though perhaps that was partially due to the journey. At least she had had the time to mentally prepare herself for this, forcing herself to acknowledge that he was just a boy taken from his family and she should feel mercy and pity for the child, as the Mother would wish; Ned certainly hoped that there might be the opportunity to gentle him at least. She recalled her own arrival in the North, and found herself eyeing the boy's clothes: roughspun wool with a cloak to serve to keep away the cold and wet of the sea, but such clothes would not suffice for the striking cold of the North.

"You must be Theon of House Greyjoy," she said to him with a forced smile after she had reunited with Ned. Theon only stared at her and nodded slightly. "I am sure you have been told that I am Lady Catelyn, Lord Stark's wife. I assure you that you will find Winterfell quite accommodating to those who live by her rules." She did hope he would not cause too much trouble on that front. "Though as I am sure you have noticed, the North can be notoriously cold; I fear we shall have to find you new clothes." Theon said nothing, but one hand went to his kraken sigil clasp and the other clutched his cloak protectively, looking as though he did not like the sound of that at all. Still, with a choice between his clothes and feeling warm, she was sure he would soon change his mind.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

It was harder to dissuade him than Catelyn had imagined. It had been simple enough to find good warm clothing of Theon's size and the style of the North, but persuading Theon to switch to them had so far met with little success, and Catelyn and Ned were loathe to outright confiscate the clothes he had brought, imperfect though they were. In some ways she struggled to fathom why; some were quite worn already, and others did not truly fit him that well; Ned believed that it was likely that a good deal of it had probably been passed down from Theon's brothers, as Ned had experienced at times in his own childhood.

 

Whether Theon feared losing his family and heritage - and he was certainly possessive over anything bearing his sigil - or he was clinging to the memory of his now deceased brothers, he was frustratingly stubborn and doing all that he could to resist being made into a Northman without being too openly rebellious. For a while Catelyn was too distracted by the pregnancy and arrival of little Arya, but after she had taken time to recover - and noticed the boy shivering at dinner after staying outside too long - she decided that something had to be done. She knew few men to be particularly interested in clothing as many women and girls she knew were, but if Theon would not accept the clothes chosen for him, at least he might be convinced in ones he at least partially chose.

It was simple enough to summon the tailor, as she also wished to buy outfits for her own children, who she would swear were growing at an unnatural rate - surely it was just yesterday when she could cradle Robb in her arms? - but she requested that Theon be brought along as well. He didn't look happy to be there, but he rarely voiced his displeasure in any situation. He had even started to cultivate a polite smile, though it looked rather forced on every occasion she had seen it so far, but she'd seen him laugh when playing with Robb before, so she supposed that was positive.

 "Of course boys of your age can grow rather swiftly, and I have noted that some of your outfits have been becoming rather too small for you, not to mention often insufficient for the weather outside, so it is really high time that you have something new," she tried not to sound too impatient. He just stared at her with that slightly crooked smile, though his eyes expressed doubt and wariness. "So I thought that it might be best that you look at the options yourself, since you are getting close to being a man. If you have any questions you can ask the tailor after I am done with him, as I will be looking for the children. Just try to bear in mind the weather and practicality," she said, before busying herself and the tailor conveniently in a slightly separate sideroom, leaving Theon with a variety of materials.

This might be all for naught, of course. Her greatest fear at that moment was that Theon might cause trouble by ruining the material or deliberately making terrible choices that he could never be allowed, but at least he might just continue to refuse, in which case she supposed he might have to be left until he truly could not even get into his clothes in a year or two.

She gave some instructions to the tailor; she wanted a new dress made for Sansa, who was already ever so eager to look like a princess, and a smart new outfit for Robb, who had torn and ruined his last when he had gone out to play with some children when he went to visit a bannerman with his father. Arya would soon outgrow anything Catelyn had made, but she still felt that the babe should have something nice of her own.

While the tailor arranged things, Catelyn spied through the slightly open door as to what Theon was doing. He looked bored, but had not yet left, eventually going to the materials and flicking through with restless disinterest. She supposed it was good that he was _trying_ at least. But then he stopped, frowning slightly, feeling the fabric. He pulled the sheet out - velvet, if Cat was not mistaken - and looked at it for a bit. Then he draped it around himself like a cloak and she fancied that he looked somewhat pleased.

After a moment he put it down, took off one of his kraken clasps and then used that to fasten the velvet properly, then admiring it in the looking glass. It was not the most practical of choices, Catelyn had to admit to herself, but as she saw him go back to the materials and then become apparently entranced by a sheet of silk, it might be a start. Theon appeared to have a liking for fine clothes, though it was possible that he'd never been given such options back on the Iron Islands.

She re-entered the room quietly, leaving the tailor to organise without her for a moment. "Discovered something you like?"

Theon started, dropping the silk and flushing red, trying to pretend he hadn't been touching it. She eyed the velvet still around his shoulders questioningly and he flushed even more as he remembered, but unable to hide that.

"That would never do for outdoor wear - you really _must_ have fur - but for noble occasions I see no reason why not: so long as you are careful not to spill anything on velvet or silk as they can be so very difficult to clean."

Theon was gaping slightly and swallowed, uncertain. "They're not truly my sort of clothes."

"Not even with your sigil sewn in?" she suggested.

There was definite temptation in Theon's eyes then.

"You ought to represent your house well on formal occasions," she pointed out.

That was enough. "The cloak ought to be black, and the sigil in gold."

"We can discuss with the tailor and see what he can do. But as I say, you ought to have warmer clothes for outside too, Winter can come quite swiftly here."

 Theon nodded slightly. "I think I saw some things that would work and be warm, so long as they had the kraken on them too..."

 "Good, we shall settle those as well."

 And Catelyn was rather satisfied to see, when Theon thought she was not looking, that he appeared to be genuinely smiling.


End file.
